Echo
by EpicArwen
Summary: Post 4x09  Lancelot du Lac . Guinevere has 'betrayed' Arthur with Lancelot and has been banished from Camelot. This is the reunion. Not based on recent episodes, i.e. there is no princess, no Helios. Third of three parts.    First - Numb; Second - Ache


Rating: K+  
>Disclaimer: I don't own anything Merlin, etc.<br>Summary: Post 4x09 (Lancelot du Lac). Guinevere has 'betrayed' Arthur with Lancelot and has been banished from Camelot. This is the reunion. Not based on recent episodes, i.e. there is no princess, no Helios. Third of three parts.

__First part: Numb_  
><em>Second: Ache<em>  
><em>Third: Echo<em>_

* * *

><p><strong>Echo<strong>

The Counsel Hall echoed with the ghosts of a love betrayed.

She was on her knees, as was her humbled place.

He was lording over her, as was his royal right.

"You know the sentence I must carry out."

Eyes lowered in humble acceptance, Guinevere nodded, unfazed.

"Despite what you've done here today, I have no choice." He intoned his reluctance. In truth, it was _because_ of what she'd done that her fate was sealed. She had saved Arthur's life, and in turn, Camelot's throne. Morgana would not be pleased. But with this particular servant's head delivered to her door, she just might be placated.

Perhaps even more so when he told her he'd spilled her enemy's blood in the very room Arthur inhabited the most. Where he held counsel, planned for war, made his most final and reverberating decisions.

Where the stain would be a constant reminder.

They could use that to their advantage.

A part of him regretted the loss of such a beautiful, gentle creature. A part of him savored the irony of a lowly servant being the key to a mighty Pendragon's downfall. An even larger part was reminded of the tenderness of a sister long dead and buried.

Perhaps it was that memory that prompted an offer otherwise denied the damned.

"Do you have any last words?"

For a moment, her silence thundered through the Counsel Hall. When she spoke, it was with the quiet dignity of a noble queen.

"Only this." Her gaze slowly slipped upward to meet his. Pure, innocent eyes pierced his blackened heart. Honest, straightforward words ricochet through a guilty conscience. "Tell him that I died as I lived...true to my heart. True to him and no other."

She waited to receive his curt, reassuring nod. Her eyes drifted closed then and delicate fingers wrapped tightly around the ring dangling from her neck. She brought it to her lips for one last kiss. One last, sacred prayer. "Forgive me, Arthur."

When she had entered the realm only two short days before, it was in search of her honor. She found a deadly plot instead. And for a moment in time she felt. Everything and all at once. Fear. Anger. Love. Panic. Fierce protectiveness. Determined resolve. And her feelings put actions to thoughts. She knew the moment she stepped foot through the gates of Camelot, her fate was sealed.

It was of little consequence.

After all, Arthur's life had been at stake.

And now that his was saved, it was time to lose hers.

Everything had happened so quickly. Merlin alone had been her contact, her conduit, to informing Arthur and thwarting the assassination attempt. She watched - hidden, powerless - as he'd been injured in the process. Desperate to assist him, Gwen plunged headlong into danger and took a wrong turn down the wrong hallway. She'd been instantly captured and brought here where she would die.

Alone.

Without witnesses. Without a champion. Without even her honor.

Just a footnote in the pages of Camelot's history. A faint echo of who she once was. Of who she was meant to be.

With Merlin wounded and Arthur oblivious to her presence, there seemed to be no other outcome. It was better this way, she reasoned. For without her honor, without Arthur's love, his trust, there was no hope of a reunion. No point in seeing him again.

The sword suspended above her head cast a long, cold shadow across her dreams. Before it even touched her skin, it was already ripping her life apart. Tearing the whole of it into little pieces, precious moments.

A delicate first kiss. Longing looks. Warm, comforting hugs. Whispered promises. Coy, teasing smiles. Entwined fingers. Lips that coaxed her deepest secrets to life.

And words spoken in that very room that would follow her into death and echo throughout her eternity.

_I love you. You are everything to me._

_I will always love you._

Tears threatened to fall. She bravely held them at bay, refusing to allow that deadly blade the final victory. Conjuring Arthur's face one last time, Guinevere smiled one last smile and whispered one last promise.

"As I will always love you..."

The shadow of death shifted and began to fall.

"NOOOOOO!"

The primal yell cut through an eternal moment of waiting.

Metal met metal. A sword tilted then clanked to the floor. A heavy body followed suit.

"WHAT were you doing?"

At the sound of Arthur's voice, Gwen's breath sharpened and held. Just like that night. In this very room. An echo from the recent past. That question. That anger.

Only, now, it was not directed at her.

Aggravaine was on the floor, Arthur looming over him, the sharp tip of his sword pressing sharply against his uncle's heart. Back to her, she could not see Arthur's face, but she recognized his stance. He was coiled. Ready to strike. Barely restrained.

"Carrying out your orders, Sire."

"MY orders?"

"Her return to Camelot was on pain of death."

Arthur's voice shook with emotion, with conviction. "_She_ saved Camelot today. She saved _me. _If you so much as think of touching one hair on her head, it will be _your_ death I require."

"Arthur, you can't be serious. I am your uncle. You would rather choose a servant over your own flesh and blood?"

"She is more than a servant. She is my queen. And so help me, Uncle, if you treat her as anything less..." Arthur let the pointed threat dangle precariously between them. "You have your first and last warning. Now, heed my words and go."

"But..."

"GO!"

A shocked and defeated Aggravaine staggered as he stood, grabbed his sword and, with one disdainful glance in Gwen's direction, scurried from the room like the rejected rat he was.

For a moment, the counsel chamber was deathly silent. Except for Arthur's labored breathing. Except for Guinevere's thundering heart.

But only for a moment.

Arthur's sword dropped heavily to the floor. In the next instant, he was before her. On his knees. His hands on her face. His fingers slipping into her hair.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" A cursory inspection showed no visible signs of injury. Terror turned to relief. Relief to awe. Disbelief. More relief. He crushed her to him, his tortured voice muffled against her hair. "Thank God Merlin saw you being dragged away. If he hadn't..." He drew a ragged breath and pulled back to look at her. "Why, Guinevere? Why did you return when you knew death awaited you? "

Guinevere was shaken. Not because of the near-death experience. She'd been prepared for that. And not because of the question. There was only one answer. Not even for the last second reprieve or his fierce defense of her.

No, it was his touch that rocked her to the core. It was the desperation in his barely breathed words that sent shivers down her spine. His fingers on her skin that sparked and flamed and radiated through her. She'd been frozen for so long, and without feeling even longer. His gentle caress was a shock to her system. Sweet and warm. Strong and wild.

A direct answer to the numbness echoing in her heart.

Somehow she found her voice.

"You were in danger. That is all I thought of, all I cared about." Her gaze had yet to meet his. "You're everything to me, Arthur. If it takes my life to prove that, I relinquish it gladly."

"Oh, Guinevere." Arthur's eyes drifted closed. His grip on her face tightened gently as he leaned his forehead against hers. Seeking her warmth. Craving their connection. "Why must you always do this to me?"

His question seemed to be ripped from the depths of his soul. Yet, there was no pain in it. There was wonder at the impossible. There was surrender to the inevitable. There was joy in the absence of the ache.

For that was gone now. Vanquished like a ghostly foe. Chased away by her very presence. Seeping into the empty hole left in its wake was gratitude. Hope. Overwhelming love. And a sense of completeness so intense it had always been and would always be the balm to the ache that had echoed in him, around him, through him since that night.

"Do what?"

"Force me to face my heart in the most surprising of ways." He pulled back and tilted her chin upward till her gaze met his smiling eyes. Eyes that then dulled with pain and regret.

"I never should have told you to go. I never should have asked that of you. I can't even begin to imagine what I've put you through..."

"No, no, Arthur, don't blame yourself. You had no choice."

"I had a choice. I could have listened to my instincts. Followed my heart." The inner torment he'd suffered during their separation was palpable.

She responded with the same torment, the same anguish. "But...I betrayed you."

"Did you?" The question was asked and answered in the time it took for Gwen to draw new breath. "My heart's been twisting in my chest since that day, Guinevere. It won't let me eat or sleep. It's haunted my every waking thought. I've turned the events of that day in my mind, over and over again and each time I have come to one conclusion. Those were not the actions of the woman I know, the Guinevere I love."

Something deep inside of her fractured. The ice that had encased her heart since her departure from Camelot shattered, gave way and started to weep.

"Oh, Arthur..."

She touched him then. Her thirsty fingers found and traced the lines of his face, reclaiming what had been hers all along. Soaking him, inch by precious inch, back into her bones. Into her blood. Into her very being. Saturating her dry and cracked soul with a love stronger than any hate and a belief deeper than any lie.

"My heart tells me the same but...I have no proof. I'd hoped to find it, but nothing." She shook her head dislodging a fresh flow of tears. "There is nothing."

Wiping away her sorrow with a gentleness that was uniquely Arthur, he sniffed back a few of his own tears then offered her the unexpected. "I think...I might have what you're looking for." Producing a silver bracelet, Arthur held it up to Gwen. "Do you recognize this?"

Gwen recoiled and nodded slowly. "Where did you get that?"

"A serving girl had it on her wrist when she was pouring my drink. I recognized it immediately, as did Merlin. Guinevere, how did you come to know this?"

"Lancelot gave it to me after he returned." Fearing how that would sound, Gwen hastened to correct any misconceptions. "Not as a token of love, but as a gift of good luck, of well wishes for our future."

Arthur took in her confession with a nod. Just as he'd suspected. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "You told me you were overwhelmed. That you couldn't help yourself. When did that begin? Tell me the truth without fear. Was it the moment you saw him on the field?"

Gwen answered without hesitation. "No. No, I was...I was surprised, shocked as we all were to see him alive. I was glad he was safe and grateful for what his sacrifice had given me...your life, our marriage, our future. But nothing more, Arthur, I swear."

His fingers gently caressed her face in unspoken reassurance. "Then when, Guinevere? Think. It's very important."

Guinevere's gaze shifted as she waded through the painful events to pinpoint the details Arthur required. "The second day of the tourney."

"Were you wearing this?"

"Yes, I was." Gwen nodded, her expression confused. "Arthur, I don't understand..."

Arthur released a sigh of relief. All of the pieces were now in place and the picture that emerged reaffirmed the truth that had been pounding away in his chest for weeks.

"Merlin thinks it was enchanted. I believe he is right."

"Enchanted. But what makes you think..."

"Lady Vivian." Arthur answered her unfinished question, echoing her own confession. "I, too, was overwhelmed. Drawn to her. I couldn't stop myself. Even though I'd never loved another." Memories came flooding back through those words. Guinevere's countenance brightened with understanding and sudden hope. "I have no proof as of yet, but..."

"How? By whom?"

"Morgana. I recognized this because it was once hers."

"Hers? But surely I would have seen it."

"Not if she never wore it, which she hasn't for many years." Arthur explained. "It was her mother's. As it turns out it was a gift from a long time ago. It was given to her mother by a man who betrayed his best friend. A man who, in turn, Morgana betrayed for a crown that is not hers."

"Your father."

Arthur nodded, the irony of bracelet's origin and use not lost on him. "And as you know, she's been trying to regain the throne since she declared herself a Pendragon. To date, she has failed. With our marriage and the people firmly behind us, it would have been an even more difficult task. So she struck. At the very heart of Camelot. Where it was sure to hurt the most."

Gwen's gaze shifted as she let the truth of his words sink in. "I've had the same thoughts, the same suspicions. I just didn't know how she'd managed it and didn't think anyone would believe me."

"Well, I do." Arthur declared without hesitation.

Her haunted gaze met his. "Even without actual proof?"

"My heart is proof enough."

"Do you really mean that?" Her voice wavered with fresh emotion.

"Every word."

Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Gwen's head bent with the weight of overwhelming relief and she began to weep. Arthur gently pulled her into his arms and whispered soothingly in her ear. "Shhh, luv. No more tears. Morgana has had too long a victory at our expense. Don't let her steal away any more of our time together. We are stronger together than anything she can ever conjure. You know that, right?"

Clinging to him, Gwen nodded, fiercely wiped away her tears and lifted her adoring gaze to the one man who had proven to be more honorable, true and just then she had ever believed was possible.

Even for Arthur Pendragon.

"How could Morgana do this to us?" Gwen sniffed, one emotion replacing another. "And where is that lying, back-stabbing witch?"

A blonde eyebrow rose at the question. "Why?"

She pulled out of his arms, fire flashing in her dark eyes. And for a brief moment Arthur was afraid for the person on the receiving end of her anger. "For what she did to you, I will hunt her down and rip her apart with my bare hands."

Arthur chuckled and gathered those very hands in his. "My fierce Guinevere, you will do no such thing."

"But…"

"She has magic and is dangerous. You will never face her alone. Do you understand?" Gaining her acquiescent nod, Arthur continued. "Now, I need you to listen to me. For what she did to us, she will get what she deserves. We _will_ make her pay. I promise you that."

"We?"

"We." Arthur affirmed, the conviction in his voice echoing through her heart. "That is…" His deep blue eyes clouded with doubt. "...if you can ever forgive me for what I put you through. Guinevere, I know how deeply I've hurt you…"

Shaking her head, Gwen stopped his confession with a gently pressed finger to his lips. "I, too, caused my fair share of hurt. But here we are. Tested and tried and stronger for it."

"Not just stronger." Arthur corrected. "Unbreakable."

"Yes." Gwen smiled suddenly and nodded. "Unbreakable. Between us, Arthur, let there be nothing to forgive."

He smiled then, full and radiant. "Well, then. There's only one course left to us. Let us deal Morgana a blow that will echo through the ages. Now. Tonight." He slowly, deliberately took her face in his hands. "Let's finish what we started, Guinevere. Marry me. Right here. Right now."

And just like the night he first proposed, for a moment Gwen stopped breathing. Everything in her screamed to answer in the affirmative. But so much had happened. So much damage had been wrought.

"But what about the people? Are you not worried what they will think? In their eyes, I have betrayed their king and..."

"I am not worried."

"And you? Do you have any doubts? Any at all? Because if you do, Arthur, please tell me now. I couldn't bear to live a life full of suspicions, a life without trust."

"I don't have any doubts." Arthur's smile deepened. "I trust you, Guinevere. With my kingdom, my life. With my heart." He paused, gauging her reaction. "So? What is your answer? Will you be my queen?"

For a moment, her silence thundered through the Counsel Hall.

When she answered, it was not with the words that Arthur expected to hear.

"No, Arthur, I will not be your queen."

Then she reached up and removed the ring from her neck. She fingered it lovingly for a moment as if in contemplation before handing it to him with a challenge and a coy smile.

"At least not until you make me your wife."

He was on his knees, as was his humbled place.

She was lording over him, as was her honored right.

The Counsel Hall echoed with the laughter of honor redeemed, the sighs of a love unbroken and the strains of a legend reborn.

The End


End file.
